


Lavender Scented

by coolant



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bathing/Washing, F/M, FWP, Fluff, Fluff without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolant/pseuds/coolant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over, the Inquisition has a brief reprieve, and Blackwall needs a bath. Lady Llewyn Trevelyan obliges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lavender Scented

**Author's Note:**

> Much as I'm dying to write angsty fics about how messed up the dynamic between Llewyn and Blackwall can be post-Revelations, I had to write something kind of sweet, for my own sake.
> 
> Your party members always tease Blackwall about his hygiene, so I thought he could use a good soak in the tub and kisses from the gf.

It had been a long time coming. Too long, if Llewyn was being honest. But now was the perfect time. Corypheus had been defeated, the immediate danger had passed; there was an unusual stillness across the reaches of Skyhold.

  
Llewyn Trevelyan, head of the inquisition, trusted ally of Empress Celene and master of magic of the rifts, lead Blackwall from the garden towards her quarters with a girlish giggle.

  
"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this 'surpise' of yours?" Though reluctant to be surprised, Blackwall held onto her hand tightly and followed without any real protest. It wasn't often, while at war, a man could take a walk the grounds while holding his lady's hand. Most of their encounters till now had been fleeting, frantic explosions of passion in between battles, as if the world would turn to ash at any moment.

  
But it didn't- or it hadn't yet. They were safe and Blackwall was settling uneasily into a feeling of contentment while his calloused hand was wrapped around Llewyn's. It was a feeling deep and warm at the bottom of his heart that radiated out to his limbs, sort of like being submerged in a pool of warm water.

  
"Maker's bal-" Blackwall swallowed his curse and let out a puff of air. Llewyn had led him to a porcelain tub in the middle of her room, steam rising from soapy water that smelled strongly of lavender. "You're not serious."

  
"Oh, I'm deadly serious, ser." The inquisitor teased. She backed up to the tub, grinning at him and drifting a hand through the steam. Then she began to unbutton the facets on her coat. "It's high time you had a good soak." Blackwall huffed again, planting his hands uncertainly on his hips.

  
"Do we really have time for something like thi-" His words cut themselves short as Llewyn's robes fell to her ankles, leaving only her sheer purple slip. It was light colored, perhaps like some kind of flower, silky and very, very... sheer.

  
"My darling," She cooed, pulling him closer by the hands. "We've all the time in the world." Then she began at the task of unlacing his tunic. Blackwall sighed, feeling himself give in to the lady and her nimble fingers tugging away at his garments. Once the tunic was defeated, she began work on his belt. Perhaps it was their respective nakedness, or maybe it was the orange light of the setting sun pouring in from the balcony, but Blackwall very much wanted to kiss her then.

  
"Maker, you're beautiful." He cupped her cheek and she blushed.

  
"Don't try and distract me." Llewyn thumbed his chin. "There will be time for that later."

  
Blackwalls pants fell to the floor and he found himself feeling especially nude. Llewyn had seen him naked before, yes, but this was a different. He stood there, bare to the evening air, vulnerable to whatever she had planned for him and the dirt under his fingernails. He suddenly found the idea of diving head first into the tub very appealing. He tried to ignore Llewyn's giggles as he lowered his large body into the significantly smaller tub.

  
"You're never going to get me back out of this bloody thing, I do know that." Blackwall grunted, struggling to situate himself without pulling something. Llewyn hushed him.

  
"I think you'll survive." She knelt beside the tub. "Now dunk your head, for goodness sake."

  
He obliged, reemerging with black hair matted over his eyes, mingling with his beard. He puffed, spraying excess water from his lips. He felt Llewyn part the curtain of hair from his eyes, wiping soap from his lashes.

  
"You look like a wet cat." She tried not to laugh, pushing the hair back from his face and working soap into it.

  
"I don't much care for cats." He mumbled, feeling his muscles relax as she worked her fingers into his scalp. Try as he might, he couldn't remember the last time he'd bathed properly. Llewyn kissed his temple softly and he suddenly forgot why he'd stopped taking baths in the first place. He could only remember how she felt, warm and smelling of soap.

  
She took a soft brush and scrubbed his skin, every inch. His neck, his arms, his chest, his back. She scrubbed under his fingernails- toenails too, Andraste bless her soul. She scrubbed until his skin was pink and soft and foreign.  
Blackwall was pulled from his warm trance with a sharp tug on his hair.

  
"What in the-" He craned his neck to find Llewyn behind him, a sturdy-toothed comb in hand.

  
"We're almost done." She said softly, picking away at the first of many knots of thick black hair. "Be brave, my love." She teased when he grumbled in discomfort. "You'll feel much better with all these knots gone."

  
To her credit, Llewyn was right. Once the tortuous process of tearing hair from his scalp was complete, he felt lighter. She stood up beside the tub, running a hand through his hair.

  
"See? Much better." She was very proud of her work. Blackwall grinned despite himself. He took her hand, all pruned from scrubbing, and pulled. "Wha- oh, Blackwall, no!" Llewyn yelped, her playful superiority giving way to panic.

  
It was too late. She landed in his lap with a splash, laughing and slapping his chest uselessly. The water had all but dissolved her silky purple slip, fabric clinging to her breasts, her back.

  
"Maker's breath. Now I'm soaking in your dirty bath water." Blackwall laughed that big, belly laugh Llewyn loved so much. "I'll need a bath for myself." He raised an eyebrow.

  
"Does that mean _I_ get to scrub _you_ from head to toe?" There was a huskiness to his voice and a glint in his eye that made Llewyn shiver. "I can't promise I won't get... distracted." He pulled her tight to him, taking a handfull of her ass, squeezing. She could feel him hard, pressed against her.

Llewyn stretched her ams over his shoulders, wiggling closer, lips nearing his.

  
"I'm counting on it."


End file.
